The Sea Hawk
by DJ Sparkles
Summary: AU Borrowed from Evendim. Boromir goes pirate hunting and runs into something totally unexpected. Now complete.
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I don't any of Professor Tolkien's characters, so I can't lay claim to them.  I also don't own this Alternate Universe, which is the property of Evendim and she's kindly allowing me to play in her sandbox.  Thanks, mate!  The Sea Hawk, however, does belong to me so if you'd like to use her in a fic, please ask first.  Enjoy!

**A/N: **I always thought Boromir got short-changed in the books.  He had such potential!  Thankfully, Evendim has restored him to life in a way which I found quite believable.  Some things you should do or know before reading this fic:

1. Read Evendim's fics.  Please.  Behind Closed Doors and Beyond Closed Doors will give you enough to go on with, but ALL of her fics are excellent!  There's so much backstory here that I can't list it all, it would take three chapters!  **LOL**  Everything you need to know will be presented there.

Oh, one more thing, please be gentle with reviews.  Constructive criticism is more than welcome, but flames will be used to heat the house with.  Onward!

Prologue 

Boromir, Captain-General of Gondor's armies, High Warden of the White Tower, and Prince of Anorien, looked out over the Bay of Belfalas with anger in his heart.

Too long had these pirates, these --- Corsairs wasn't the right word, since this one didn't claim Umbar as his lair --- these _thieves,_ terrorized the Bay.  Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth (and Boromir's uncle) had tried vainly to capture this group, with no success.  

The fact that they had claimed few lives meant nothing to him.  They were engaged in activities that endangered his people, and he meant to put a stop to it at all costs.

He knew that Imrahil had swallowed his pride in order to petition the King for aid.  The fact that his Swan Knights had been unequal to the task must gall him bitterly.  

Enough dallying, he told himself sternly.  Time to get to his ship and put an end to these mercenaries as soon as possible.

One 

The _Valour_ had been at sea now for over a month, and no sign of his quarry.  He became more and more determined, as the days went past, to bring this pirate chieftain to justice.  The Sea Hawk, as he had been dubbed, was a thorn in Boromir's side.  One that vexed him sorely and he would not rest until it had been removed.

"Sail ho!" came the call from the bow.  Boromir turned the wheel over to his first mate and went forward.  He followed the sailor's gesture and indeed, there were sails on the horizon.  A triple mast, so not a small ship.  And, Eru, were those sails _red?_  Finally, he had his quarry in sight!

"Stations!" he roared.  "Unship the oars and close this gap!  Our quarry has been sighted!  Archers, at the ready!"

The distance began to shrink quickly between the two ships, and Boromir held himself ready.  His lame right arm troubled him no longer, and instead, he unsheathed his Elvish blade, _Astaldar_*, wrought for him in Mirkwood by none less than King Thranduil himself.  

His keen eyes were soon disturbed, however.  There was no sign of life on the offending vessel, and he ordered them in close.  "Oy, _Aergil_*, heave to and prepare to be boarded!" he called for good measure.

A few moments later he was certain there was no one aboard.  He picked his boarding party carefully and was the first to set foot upon the pirates' vessel.  They explored silently, an unease growing as they found no one.  Where was this ship's crew?  She couldn't have gotten this far out to sea without one.

"Captain?"  

"Be at ease, Findol," Boromir said quietly.  "Wherever the crew went, there's no one aboard now.  Take her in tow, we can at least return her to Dol Amroth."  

Lines were run between the two vessels, and the _Aergil_ was duly secured and taken in tow.  Boromir chose to remain aboard, with a skeleton crew to run her in addition to the tow from the _Valour.  _But even he was unprepared for what happened next!

The knife at his throat took him by surprise and he made to disarm his opponent, thinking it was one of his men playing a trick.  But the voice in his ear told him otherwise and his blood ran cold.  

"If you so much as change the rhythm of your breath, I will slit your throat."  The tip of what felt to be a rather large dagger poked him painfully to drive the pirate's point home.  "Order them to release the lines."

Boromir remained silent, hoping his men would see he was under duress, but alas, it wasn't to be.  The pirate had chosen well his hiding place; he was totally concealed from any but Boromir, yet still in a position to do maximum damage.  "I will not ask again," came the hiss in his ear as the knife jabbed more painfully into his flesh.

"Release the lines!" he shouted.  "This ship will carry herself to Dol Amroth, not be dragged like a recalcitrant child!"  There, his men would realize something was wrong, for though Boromir had a reputation for respecting the sea and her vessels, not even he would trust a ship this size with a bare dozen men.

The pirate captain stepped closer behind Boromir, chuckling softly.  "A nice try, my Lord Boromir of the House of Hurin, but you fail.  You see?"  

Once the lines had been cut, pirates were swarming over the ship's sides.  Boromir cursed roundly as his loyal sailors were quickly subdued.  The knife was withdrawn from his throat and he whirled, Astaldar in hand, to do battle with the pirate ---

--- but his blade found no mark.

How in the name of the Valar was this man moving about?  He seemed more shade than man!  A glance upward told him and he roared.  "You impudent little whelp!  Come down and face me, if you dare!"

"Come up and fetch me, Prince of Anorien, if _you_ dare!" came the taunt from above, and Boromir realized he was surrounded by the pirate's men, all of whom were sporting naked blades of all lengths and sizes.  He allowed himself to be disarmed rather than become a pincushion and was soon tightly bound at the wrists.  

The pirates swiftly turned their ship about before _Valour _could respond and began a swift retreat as _Valour_ turned to pursue.  They had a wide start, and meant to make the most of it, but the Sea Hawk leaped to the rail and hailed her.

"Oy, _Valour!_  We've your Captain!  Stand down and return to port!"  The voice was strident, but there was something about it that made Boromir take careful note.  "My word of honor that he will not be harmed, but you shall take word to your King that Prince Boromir shall be our guest for a time.  Our demands will be sent to the King!"

He stepped lightly down from the rail as _Valour_ signaled agreement and turned away.  The Sea Hawk returned to stand before Boromir, eyebrow raised.  "Cat got your tongue, Boromir?"

Boromir gave them his best parade ground glare.  "Not a cat, just a naughty little bird," he ground out.  "So tell me, how does a woman become a pirate chieftain?"  His voice was scornful.

"A fair question, but one I don't care to answer at the moment," she purred back.  "Take him below, boys, and see that he's comfortable.  But see that he can't run about and get underfoot until we get to port.  I don't want him making any mischief for us."

**TBC**

***These words are Elvish, Sindarin to be precise.  Astaldar means "Valiant One" and Aergil is "Sea Star."**


	2. Two

Two 

Boromir picked at the food on his plate, his mind on the pirate and what had happened to him.  How, _how_ had she managed to hide all her crew?  It made no sense.

The food was simple, but good.  He tried to concentrate on it, only to feel his anger building yet again.  That --- _woman _--- was going to drive him mad and she wasn't even in sight!

He rose, choosing to pace the confines of his small cabin, and tried the door yet again.  Still locked.  Not even a porthole he might climb out of!  His sword had been confiscated, his dagger as well.  And with one arm, he couldn't hope to outfight the whole lot of them.  No, guile and his wits would have to be his weapons. 

He didn't even have silverware as a weapon.  He'd been given a spoon with which to eat the simple fare, a wooden spoon that he couldn't use as a weapon.  It was old and flimsy and would probably break before he could get it stuck into one of the pirates.

A sound at the door alerted him and he dropped back into his seat before it was opened, assuming the same thoughtful position as before.  "Have you come to gloat more, _Fileg?" _he taunted her.

"I've always thought myself more of a hawk than a little bird," she returned affably.  "Sindarin?  I was under the impression that you spoke little or no Elvish.  But that's of no importance, at the moment."  She faced him squarely.  "I actually came to assure myself that you were being treated well, since my men have a tendency to spoil pretty things."

Boromir chose to ignore the jibe.  "I've been treated well, but would prefer my freedom," he retorted quickly.  "Surely you can't be fearful of a one-armed man?"  

"Ah, but even one-armed, you are a dangerous man, Boromir."  Her voice was soft, yet he heard clearly the threat behind her words.  "I've heard the tales of your deeds, and heard of your skill with that Elvish blade.  Permit me my caution."  She drew up a chair and straddled it across from him.  "Now, if I were to have your word that you would commit no mayhem, nor seek to escape, I might be willing to reconsider your incarceration."

"I cannot give my word to that, Fileg," he replied sternly.  "I am a soldier, and it is my duty to attempt escape to return to my King."  A plan was forming in his mind even as he spoke the words.  "But I do know you will not have me harmed.  Your presence here only supports that fact."

Her eyebrow arched upward.  "Really?  Then you know nothing, Boromir."  Quick as a flash, she was up and had her dagger pressed against his throat once more.  "I would slit your throat now and be done with it, but you need to remain alive for the time.  So, I will settle for this."  

The blade sliced quickly and lightly against his cheek, yet the wound felt as though a brand had been applied to his face.  He glared at her, his left hand pressed against the wound to slow the flow of blood.  His temper was reawakening quickly.

"It won't even scar," she informed him as she wiped the blade clean on the arm of her tunic.  "But now you know that your assumptions are wrong.  I will harm you, to get what I want.  I just will not kill you."  Her dark eyes flashed dangerously at him.  "But I _will_ make you beg for death, if you continue playing games with me."

"I play no games," he shot back.  "I merely tell you where I stand.  And you have just established _your_ stance quite well."  He glared over the table at her.  "You have my word that I _will_ see you hang for your crimes.  You cannot escape forever."

"Not forever, but long enough."  Her words were clipped and furious.  "And _you_ would never be the one to capture me.  Yet I captured _you_ quickly enough."  

She rose from the chair, indicating that their discussion was at an end, and made for the door.  A knock later it was opened from without and she slipped through, and he heard the lock click into place.  


	3. Three

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of Tolkien's.  I'm just playing around with them a bit and will put them carefully away when I'm done.  The Sea Hawk, however, is all mine and please ask before using in other fics.

**Dedications:** I wouldn't have had the nerve to even start this without Evendim and my darling AJ reassuring me that it was decent.  This entire story is dedicated to them.

**A/N:** This piece is set in Evendim's wonderful AU.  Any questions can be answered simply by reading her wonderful fics.  Which should be done anyway because they are simply excellent!

**A/N 2:**This being an AU piece, there are several discrepancies from the Professor's works.  Not the least of which that Boromir lives!   

Please, if you like the story, leave a review!  It would make my day, as well as telling me that it's worth continuing!

Three 

The Sea Hawk entered her cabin in a high rage.  How _dare_ the man act so superior?  She'd caught him quickly enough, and with a ruse that a soldier of his experience should have seen through.  

She thought back over what she knew of him.  Prince of Anorien, Captain-General of Gondor's armies, High Warden of the White Tower, Prince of the Greenwood in Thranduil's eyes.  All these things he was, and yet none of them told a single blasted _thing_ of him.  They were only titles, after all.

She needed something she could hold over the man, not the soldier.  Otherwise, it was going to be a long time before he saw daylight again, and before she slept without one eye open.  Not that she ever would, but still, she'd like to have some respite from worrying over what _Boromir_ would do to her if she was caught unaware.

She fully intended to release him, alive and whole.  The ransom demand was even now on its way to Minas Tirith with an agent she trusted.  But if the blasted _man_ didn't stop baiting her, she was going to be hard-pressed to keep from killing him, or at least doing more damage.

She truly hadn't intended him harm, but his words had made it clear he considered her no threat.  She _had_ to re-establish her power over him or he would have waltzed out that door and taken her ship!  But she wondered if perhaps, there might have been a better way.

Wait.  She had the glimmer of an idea.  It would be perfect to ensure his behavior, if she could make it work.  _Faramir!_  Everyone knew of the closeness of the brothers.  The wretch would do almost _anything_ to keep his brother safe!

This would take careful planning.  Boromir could never know the truth, or it would never work.  She knew she could keep an expressionless face, but her eyes might betray her.  Well, there was a risk to every plan.  She'd just have to chance it.

She set about tidying her cabin, since she had been less than circumspect in her ire.  Shards of broken pottery lay everywhere, and the bunk had been pulled askew.  She hastily swept up and straightened the bunk, her mind awhirl with possibilities.  

***

Boromir barely kept himself from heaving the wooden cup at the door.  Valar, but the woman was infuriating!

He settled back to his chair, musing.  Had he learned anything from that encounter?  Indeed he had.  Number one, never underestimate one's opponent because she's female.

She seemed to know much about him, but he knew little of her.  Only that she was brash, obnoxious, and possessed of a temper that would put even hardened soldiers of his acquaintance to shame. 

What would Faramir do in his place?  No doubt he would be able to win the woman with sweet words, but Boromir was no poet.  And he was beginning to feel decidedly unarmed in a battle of wits against this girl.

He needed to find out what he could.  He needed to know what he could use against her, if anything.  And that was the rub.  The only way possible to accomplish that would be to give her his sworn word that he would obey her rules.  And that was something he wasn't yet prepared to do.

***

Aragorn, the Elessar, King of Gondor, sat brooding in his rooms, anger sharpening his senses.  It had been a long time since anyone had provoked his wrath, and he was certain this time would be far more than a mere nettling of his temper.  

Prince Imrahil had arrived with the dawn, full of news, and none of it good.  It seemed that Boromir had been taken by the very pirates he was pursuing!  The _Valour's _crew had been thoroughly questioned, and the truth of the matter was that Boromir had boarded their ship, lured in by the appearance of a lifeless vessel, adrift on the water, and been surprised by the crew, who had been concealed somewhere.  His men had been released to return to _Valour_, released and set adrift in a small boat where they would undoubtedly be seen.

The sailors had spoken of the Sea Hawk, of how he had planned the capture in order to hold Boromir for ransom.  But no formal demand had yet been received.

Aragorn rose to pace.  His hands were tied until the formal demand came, for he had no notion of which direction the pirates had taken, nor where they were sheltering.  It was certain they were not in Umbar, since Aragorn and the Corsairs had at least a nodding acquaintance, and they would never dare his wrath in this fashion.  

Until he had a formal demand in his hands, he could do nothing.  And that was the hardest thing of all.

TBC 


	4. Four

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of Tolkien's.  I'm just playing around with them a bit and will put them carefully away when I'm done.  The Sea Hawk, however, is all mine and please ask before using in other fics.

**Dedications:** I wouldn't have had the nerve to even start this without Evendim and my darling AJ reassuring me that it was decent.  This entire story is dedicated to them.

**A/N:** This piece is set in Evendim's wonderful AU.  Any questions can be answered simply by reading her wonderful fics.  Which should be done anyway because they are simply excellent!

**A/N 2:**This being an AU piece, there are several discrepancies from the Professor's works.  Not the least of which that Boromir lives!   

Please, if you like the story, leave a review!  It would make my day, as well as telling me that it's worth continuing!

*** 

Boromir sat up as the door opened again and the Sea Hawk returned.  She again assumed her seat on the chair and raised an eyebrow at him.  "Have you reconsidered your position here?" she asked politely.

Boromir pointedly returned to his prone position on the bunk, refusing to return her gaze.  "If you mean will I give you my word not to attempt escape, I will not," he replied tightly.  "I cannot."

"Not even if it means your brother's life?" the pirate threw back at him nonchalantly.  "Even now, there is an agent in Minas Tirith, waiting for my signal.  If you refuse to cooperate, Boromir, I will send word and Faramir will join your father in the Silent Street."

Boromir came upright in a blur of movement, his left hand tightening around her throat so quickly she had no time to cry out.  He pushed her against the wall, holding her there, letting her see very closely the rage in his face.  "You _will not_ harm my brother, or by the Valar, I will kill you myself and slowly, so slowly you beg for death," he hissed.

"Release me," she demanded, though her voice was hoarse from the pressure on her throat.  "Or my first mate will send the signal."

He held her gaze, green eyes boring into brown, until he was convinced she spoke the truth.  He felt despair welling up inside him, despair that he could not protect his brother, despair that this woman, this _wench_ should have such a hold on him.  Slowly, he forced his fingers to unclench from her throat, knowing as he did so that she now owned him.  He could no more risk his brother than he could stop breathing.

"What is it you want of me," he asked, his voice tired.  His despair threatened to overwhelm him, until he remembered.  He had overcome Death itself, to mention the most obvious obstacle.  He would overcome this, and find a way to save his brother.  

"Nothing that you cannot do, Boromir.  I have no wish to break you.  Merely to control you, that no one gets hurt any further by this.  If you had simply given me your word, none of this would have been necessary."  The pirate moved away from him, conspicuously _not_ rubbing her throat.  "I want your sworn word that you will not try to escape, and that you will cause no mayhem among my crew.  In turn, I shall swear to you that you shall be treated well, unharmed, and in general returned in the same shape I took you aboard in.  Do we have a bargain?"

Boromir nodded slowly.  "I will abide by your rules of conduct."  His voice was soft, yet harsh.  "You have given me little choice, Fileg, and mark my words, when this is over, you _will_ regret threatening my brother."  He moved away from her to reclaim his place on the bunk.  

"And I have given my word that you shall be well treated.  For instance, you are free to move about the ship, now.  Explore her to your heart's content.  We will make landfall by dawn tomorrow, and there you will have free run of my camp."  She gazed at him speculatively.  "It's a pity you're such an honorable man.  You'd make a grand pirate."  And with that cryptic statement, she left him to think.

TBC 


	5. Five

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of Tolkien's.  I'm just playing around with them a bit and will put them carefully away when I'm done.  The Sea Hawk, however, is all mine and please ask before using in other fics.

**Dedications:** I wouldn't have had the nerve to even start this without Evendim and my darling AJ reassuring me that it was decent.  This entire story is dedicated to them.

**A/N:** This piece is set in Evendim's wonderful AU.  Any questions can be answered simply by reading her wonderful fics.  Which should be done anyway because they are simply excellent!

**A/N 2:**This being an AU piece, there are several discrepancies from the Professor's works.  Not the least of which that Boromir lives!   

**A/N 3: **My thanks to all my reviewers!  I try to answer reviews as they come in, but if you don't leave an email I can't answer them!****

Please, if you like the story, leave a review!  It would make my day, as well as telling me that it's worth continuing!

*** 

She leaned against the wall outside the door, her fingers rubbing the painful bruising at her throat.  The man had a grip like a bear!  But her ruse had worked.  She'd gotten Boromir's word that he'd behave himself.

Now, she had to give him the same courtesy.  She'd already made him free of the ship and her camp, but she needed her crew to understand that he was to be left completely alone.  She wouldn't tolerate anyone abusing him.  It was enough that he was pliable.  He didn't need to be broken.

"Arthond!" she bellowed as she strode along the corridor.  "Gather the crew.  We've things to discuss before we make landfall."  She waited until his back was turned and he was headed away before adding the last little tidbit.  "And see to it that Boromir's cabin remains unlocked from now on.  He'll give us no more trouble."

***

Boromir swore vehemently under his breath.  His one weakness was Faramir, and he knew it well.  But this, this was more than just a threat.  It was a promise.  He had seen it so clearly in her eyes, the promise of disobedience being repaid with death.  And that not even his own!

He let himself slide slowly down the wall to sit on the floor, his head in his hands.  _What_ had he been thinking?  He should _never_ have allowed her the upper hand.  But what else could he do?  He couldn't endanger his brother.  That was just unacceptable.

He got up with a start when the door suddenly opened, and the first mate stepped inside, carrying Boromir's own weaponry! 

"Hawk says you're to have these back," Arthond said quietly as he laid the blades carefully on the table.  "None of us will bother you."

Boromir nodded back, inwardly stunned.  The woman had lost her mind completely!  She trusted him with his weapons when she _knew_ without a doubt he wanted her dead.  And the thoughtful little thing had even provided him with the perfect excuse!

He had sworn to commit no mayhem among her crew.  He had said _nothing_ about committing mayhem on _her_ person!  But he would have to go carefully, lull her into a false security so she would not be able to signal her agent.  Faramir must not be harmed!

***

Aragorn sat waiting yet again.  This time, however, he waited not upon the whims of fate, nor on a pirate.  Faramir was to pay him a visit, to learn what had befallen his brother.

As if his thoughts had summoned his son, Faramir entered the room, bowed low to his King, and then came forward to give his father a gentle hug.  

"You are troubled, father, I see it in your eyes.  What has happened?"  Faramir took the seat indicated, not without some surprise.  It was seldom he and his father were able to converse privately, yet it was obvious this was to be a quite private meeting.  "Boromir has not returned as expected?"

He bit his lip, knowing by the expression on Aragorn's face that he had hit the mark, and stilled the small voice screaming in his own heart.  "That's it, then.  He has cheated death before, I am certain he will this time as well."

Wordlessly, Aragorn held out the message that had come to him earlier in the day.  He took it gingerly, as though afraid it would bite, and read it carefully.

**To Elessar, King of Gondor, greetings.**

**We are holding your Captain-General.  He is being well treated, and will be unharmed upon his return to you.  However, there are several demands that must be met before we will consider releasing him.**

**The sum of five thousand pieces of gold is to be brought to the port at Cair Andros.  **

**The King himself will be on hand for the transfer, and will guarantee _Aergil_ safe passage away from Cair Andros as far as the open sea.**

**There will be no further attempts to capture or kill the Sea Hawk.**

**If these terms are not met, or any rescue attempt is made, the Captain-General's life shall be forfeit.**

**As a token of good faith, and a sign that we truly hold Boromir, please give to Faramir this message: That your brother loves you, and promises his Picklepuss honey upon his return.**

**We await your return message.**

The parchment was unsigned, but Faramir had seen enough.  He handed the parchment back to Aragorn, his expression thoughtful.  "It seems as though they truly hold him, but I am still uncertain," he began.  "All of Gondor knows of my fascination with honey, though not many have heard him call me 'Picklepuss.'  It could still be a trap to capture you."

Aragorn nodded.  "The messenger waits without.  I am to send an answer immediately."

"If they truly have Boromir, I almost pity them," Faramir returned idly.  "My brother is not one to take such an affront as being held for ransom lightly.  They are probably already sporting bruises and various wounds from his foul temper."  He laughed, softly.  

"No doubt.  But do we dare take the chance, and refuse?  I have no doubt of their response should we do so."  Aragorn was torn between the desire to hunt this pirate down and tear him limb from limb, or to set a different trap at Cair Andros and bring them all in.  But honor demanded that if he agreed to their terms, he would agree to all of them, and be unable to set said trap. 

"My first feeling is that we should agree, with some stipulations.  _You_ are not to be risked."  Faramir's toned brooked no argument.  "I will take the gold to Cair Andros, and will accept the other stipulations, on condition that Boromir is returned whole and unharmed."  His expression boded ill for the pirates if anything had befallen his brother.  "In the event he is not returned, or has been harmed in any way, the demands are void and I shall hunt them down myself."

"You shall have my aid, should the need arise," Aragorn swore to his Steward.  "Very well, we will send the message as you suggest.  Their answer will tell us all we need to know."


	6. Six

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of Tolkien's.  I'm just playing around with them a bit and will put them carefully away when I'm done.  The Sea Hawk, however, is all mine and please ask before using in other fics.

**Dedications:** I wouldn't have had the nerve to even start this without Evendim and my darling AJ reassuring me that it was decent.  This entire story is dedicated to them.

**A/N:** This piece is set in Evendim's wonderful AU.  Any questions can be answered simply by reading her wonderful fics.  Which should be done anyway because they are simply excellent!

**A/N 2:**This being an AU piece, there are several discrepancies from the Professor's works.  Not the least of which that Boromir lives!   

**A/N 3: **My thanks to all my reviewers!  I try to answer reviews as they come in, but if you don't leave an email I can't answer them!****

Please, if you like the story, leave a review!  It would make my day, as well as telling me that it's worth continuing!

*** 

Boromir followed Arthond through the warren of caves on the small island.  "Your camp is in these caves?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.  He no longer felt as helpless, since he once more carried _Astaldar, _but the feeling of desperation lingered.  He dared not compromise Faramir's safety.

Arthond gave him a level gaze.  "Cap'n's quarters is in here," he explained tersely.  "Only one knows the way besides her is me, an now you.  She wants you should break your fast with her."

Boromir nodded.  He knew he had carried his weight on the voyage in, once she'd released him from that cage.  He'd insisted on helping with the ship's tasks, helped ready her for landfall, since he knew a dawn landing, with the light uncertain, could be tricky.  

They had come into port with no difficulty, however.  And the Sea Hawk had immediately disappeared into this warren of caves, leaving Boromir out among her crew, where he had learned a few very interesting things.

To a man, they were loyal to her, respected her, and protected her.  They would die for her.  Yet she had _not_ achieved her rank as a matter of course for a pirate.  She had proven herself, yes, but she had not killed more than a few times, and those few were dictated by necessity.  

She'd not hesitated an instant at committing violence on Boromir himself, but the violence was tempered by something.  And that might just be something he could use.

Arthond stopped beside a smaller cave and motioned Boromir inside.  "Best not to keep the Cap'n waiting," he said evenly and started back along the passageway.

Boromir ducked through the curtained archway, uncertain of what to expect.  

"Welcome to my lair, Boromir of Gondor," the Sea Hawk purred as she gestured him to a seat at her table.  "I trust you are finding your stay with us comfortable?"  

He bowed to her, carefully concealing his shock at her appearance.  No longer was she a simple pirate.  

Her dark hair was intricately braided round her head in a crown of sorts, and she wore a gown of a soft rust color, which mirrored the highlights in her hair.  So, she was all set to charm him, was she?  So much the better!

"My lady should sit first," he said softly as he waited by his chair.  Carefully, this would have to be done very carefully.  He couldn't give her any indication that what he really wanted to do was strangle her!  

"Very well, although we don't stand much on ceremony when we're on land," she replied back, her tone brisk.  "Now, would you please answer my question?  Are you comfortable?"

Boromir seated himself and forced down his dislike, burying it deeply within himself.  She couldn't be allowed to know what he was truly thinking!  "I am comfortable, I suppose," he replied with a shrug.  "I would be much _more_ comfortable were I back in Minas Tirith.  But for the moment, this is becoming a nice holiday."

"Oh, you're not on holiday," she shot back smoothly as she poured tea for them.  "I'll expect you to carry your own weight while you're with us.  Which you did admirably on the way in, I'm told."  She offered him a platter.  "Toast, with clover honey?"  Her smile was wicked and Boromir stifled a growl.  

"Thank you, no," he replied tightly, then forced himself to smile again.  "You do realize you have me at a disadvantage, my lady.  You know so much about me, and yet have told so little of yourself."  His gaze was direct, guileless.  "Such as your name.  I can't see myself calling you 'Sea Hawk,' yet 'little bird' is no better.  So, tell me, _Fileg, _what is your name?"

"Nice try, Boromir."  Her voice was sharp.  "My name is of no importance.  You, as the rest of my crew, will address me as Captain."  She pinned him under her clear gaze.  "I know full well that you'd like to wring my neck.  But since you're being so charming, perhaps you would answer more questions.  Such as, will your King yield to our demands?"

"_If _he believes you trustworthy, and _if_ he has the gold, possibly," Boromir ground out.  He rose to pace.  So much for his plan to charm her.  "But he will _not_ risk himself.  He would not be allowed to do so even did he wish it."  He carefully moved closer to her side of the table.

She eyed him suspiciously.  "If not the King, then the bargain is void," she spat.  "I will settle for no one less.  Not even the Steward your brother."  She rose to take a sheaf of parchment and a quill from her desk, and Boromir was on her like a hound to a fox.  Twisting one arm up behind her back, he held her bent over the desk and leaned down to hiss at her.  

"As you said once, _Fileg, _I am a dangerous man.  And you are going to take me to my freedom without argument, or I will snap your neck like a twig."

She twisted out of his grasp, coming up with a long curved dagger, almost daring him to touch her again.  "Does your word mean nothing?" she snarled.  "No mayhem, no escape attempts?"

"My word is sacred to me, I would never break it.  But, you annoying little _pizzle, _I did _not_ swear to do no mayhem to you, only your crew."  Boromir's blade was in his hand, gleaming in the torchlight.  "Now, we appear to be at an impasse.  I have the greater reach and the better weapon.  Do you yield, or must I kill you?"  

"I will not yield.  Your word that you would not attempt escape, does that mean nothing?"  She glared at him as she put the table once more between them, though he was nearest the entrance.  

"Aye, it does.  But my duty to my King will _always_ take precedence."  He feinted toward her, pleased when her blade met his with a heavy metallic clang.  "Yield, lead me to a safe harbor from which I might return home, and I will spare your life."  Where had _that_ come from?  He wanted nothing in life so much as to subtract her from it!

"Never!"  She dashed around the table, but he was still quicker and blocked her exit.

"You still are outmatched, _Captain,_" he snarled as he blocked another rush toward the door.  "You can scream all you wish, the only one to hear you is me.  Your men do not know the way to your rooms.  And Arthond should be occupied by now with some --- modifications --- I made on the sly to _Aergil._  Now, will you yield?"

Her rage stepped up another notch and she hurled her dagger with deadly accuracy.  Boromir was unable to completely parry the missile and it sliced open his left shoulder, near the neck, and thudded into the wall.

"You insufferable little _witch!_" he growled as he stepped closer, ignoring the pain to raise his blade over her.  But before he could deliver the blow, Arthond came rushing in, oblivious to the tableau.

"Cap'n!  We've got to leave, _now!_  Lookout says there are ships closing on us, and they look to be slavers!"  

She was up in a heartbeat, almost past Boromir before he could lower his sword.  "I'm not losing any more of my people to them, Arthond.  Get everyone aboard.  We'll run.  _Aergil_ can outrun anything on the sea, with her oars and sails both in use."  

"The wind is against you," Boromir snapped.  "Sails will be of no use until it shifts."  He caught her stunned expression and gave a rueful snort.  "I still wish your head on a plate, _Felig,_ but I will leave no one to slavers.  I will help you to escape, on condition that you then allow me my freedom."

She didn't take much time for thought; that would come later.  "Done.  But you'll need that dressed before you do much."

"It's a scratch, I can do what's necessary to keep your people safe.  Let's go."


	7. Seven

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of Tolkien's.  I'm just playing around with them a bit and will put them carefully away when I'm done.  The Sea Hawk, however, is all mine and please ask before using in other fics.

**Dedications:** I wouldn't have had the nerve to even start this without Evendim and my darling AJ reassuring me that it was decent.  This entire story is dedicated to them.

**A/N:** This piece is set in Evendim's wonderful AU.  Any questions can be answered simply by reading her wonderful fics.  Which should be done anyway because they are simply excellent!

**A/N 2:**This being an AU piece, there are several discrepancies from the Professor's works.  Not the least of which that Boromir lives!   

**A/N 3: **My thanks to all my reviewers!  I try to answer reviews as they come in, but if you don't leave an email I can't answer them!****

Please, if you like the story, leave a review!  It would make my day, as well as telling me that it's worth continuing!

*** 

Faramir entered the King's chambers with a purposeful stride.  "My lord, I have word," he announced sternly.  "They have rejected the proposal."  He tossed the parchment on the table with a disgusted sniff.  "Not that I expected any less."

Aragorn took the message and scanned it carefully.  "The only thing we are in disagreement on is who will carry the ransom," he said thoughtfully.  "And I will not hide here in the Citadel if it may cost Boromir his life."  His words were clipped, though forceful.

"You _cannot_ be risked!" Faramir objected strenuously.  But before he could draw breath again, Aragorn cut him off with a savage gesture.

"I am the only one they will accept, Faramir, which makes it necessary that I do this."  The King's forceful personality was asserting itself quite well, as though Faramir needed reminding.  "Unless you would see Boromir forsaken, which I know you will not."  His expression softened slightly at the look of shocked disbelief on his son's face.  "I intend to do everything within my power and ability to retrieve Boromir safely.  But this pirate_ will not_ go free."

"You must agree to all terms, my lord, or the agreement is void," Faramir reminded him.  "You cannot risk any further attempt at capture."

Aragorn smiled grimly.  "I cannot, it is true.  But it says nothing of the Steward or his brother.  Think you that Boromir would allow such a grave insult as has been done to him to go unpunished?  I cannot _order_ such an attempt.  But neither am I required to forbid anyone _else_ from pursing the Sea Hawk."

A thoughtful frown crossed his face.  "For all his daring and courage, this Sea Hawk seems quite unfamiliar with the art of negotiating.  The demands were well stated, but lacked clarity.  Almost as if the pirate himself was --- young.  How long has this _creature_ been plaguing our ships?"

Faramir thought for only a moment.  "No more than two years, sire," he returned slowly.  "You think then that he is trying to prove himself with this abduction."

"Faramir, _ion-nin,_ that is exactly what I think.  Come, we have much to plan."

TBC

**A/N:  Sorry this chapter is so short.  The muse left me at this point, so it went no farther.  But part 8 will be posted, hopefully by the weekend, and it'll be a bit longer.  ****J**


	8. Eight

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of Tolkien's.  I'm just playing around with them a bit and will put them carefully away when I'm done.  The Sea Hawk, however, is all mine and please ask before using in other fics.

**Dedications:** I wouldn't have had the nerve to even start this without Evendim and my darling AJ reassuring me that it was decent.  This entire story is dedicated to them.

**A/N:** This piece is set in Evendim's wonderful AU.  Any questions can be answered simply by reading her wonderful fics.  Which should be done anyway because they are simply excellent!

**A/N 2:**This being an AU piece, there are several discrepancies from the Professor's works.  Not the least of which that Boromir lives!   

**A/N 3: **My thanks to all my reviewers!  I try to answer reviews as they come in, but if you don't leave an email I can't answer them!

*** Eight 

"All right, we're clear of the cove, now let me see that cut."  The Sea Hawk's voice was terse, even impatient.  "And stop giving orders on _my_ ship, damn you!"

Boromir allowed her to lead him below.  "Then give the orders when they're needed!" he snarled.  "If you're going to be a pirate, or a Captain, _Captain,_ then by Eru's sweet sake, _be one_!  Your hesitation almost cost us dearly."  He stormed about the Hawk's cabin, his temper clearly beyond restraint.  

She grabbed him and pushed him down onto the bunk, her own fury easily a match for his.  "Don't you _dare_ make this my fault!" she raged at him.  "It wasn't my fault that the slavers found us!"

"Of course it wasn't your fault!  But that doesn't excuse your behavior!"  Boromir felt as though he was back in the barracks, dressing down a recruit, and for a moment, the image held firmly.  "If you're going to command, you have to _command_!  Hesitation is not acceptable.  And if you're not willing to kill to stay free, you've no business being a pirate!"

"Well, if we're down to finding flaws in each other's character, Boromir, you've a few not so savory traits yourself!  Such as being a sneak and a liar!"  Her open palm connected with his face with a solid crack.  "You told me you'd sabotaged my ship!"

"I did, didn't I?" he replied as he stood, hoping to intimidate her by sheer size.  "You are far too trusting, girl.  I was bluffing in hopes of an early release!"  He took a step forward, forcing her to fall back, and his voice took on a low, menacing note.  "You are no more than a spoiled brat who needs a good spanking.  Is that why you became a pirate, _Fileg?_  Because someone didn't let you have your way?  Eru, girl, you don't have the stomach to be a pirate!"

She blanched and backed away from him, turning to leave the room.  "There are bandages in the chest, there, and some solution to clean the wound," she said woodenly.  "After you've tended yourself, see Arthond.  He'll set you one of the small boats, and you can go where you wish.  I release you."

Boromir shook his head.  He had meant to frighten her, to scare her out of what wits she possessed, but now he was feeling just a bit guilty.  "I cannot tend myself, I'm afraid," he said slowly, willing her to turn and face him again so he could see her expression.  "Would you reconsider taking care of it for me?"  

She turned, slowly, and stepped over to the chest, taking the supplies from it and turning to face him again.  "Fine."  Her voice was tight with fury.  "I'll tend your wounds.  Sit down."  She approached him only after he had seated himself again, as though a touch fearful of him, but her expression spoke of anger more than fear.    

Her hands were gentle as they cleaned and dressed the long cut, but her expression told him he should stay quiet, at least until she was finished, for she seemed sorely tempted to take more of his hide in payment for her services!

He thought back over their previous shouting match and realized her behavior had changed from the moment he had mentioned she would not kill.  That in itself seemed so bizarre for a pirate that he almost couldn't credit it.  But the reputation of the Sea Hawk confirmed it.  She had no more than a dozen kills to her name, and all of those unavoidable.  

Her honor had remained intact, and his was in shreds over his duty to his King.  No, no, he had committed no wrong.  But he was coming to realize how driven by honor and duty she was, almost as much as he himself.    He had made the mistake of seeing her as an enemy _without_ honor, and _that_ had shamed him.  Not his actions.  His presumptions.

She was finishing up with the wound and set the supplies down, coming to stand in front of him again.  "You're lucky.  Last time I threw a dagger at someone, it took off his ear.  You didn't even need stitching."  Her voice was still tense, rage underlying every word.  "Now, let's get you off this ship."

"Not yet, please."  Boromir kept his voice neutral, although the words were bitter in his mouth.  However, he needed to see this through.  "I've been an absolute _swine_ to you without knowing the truth.  And I am prepared, now, to give you a fair hearing."  He settled himself a bit more comfortably.  "Whenever you are ready, my lady."

"Oh, _Eru,_ we're back to that again."  She threw up her hands.  "I am no lady, Captain-General, nor do I expect you to treat me like one.  I am what I am, nothing more."  She stalked across the cabin, stopping at another small chest and unlocking it with a hidden key from somewhere on her person.  Then she stood and offered a cup to him, setting the other on the table and following it with a dusty bottle.  "This is going to be a long conversation, so you might as well enjoy.  I only ask that you give me the promised fair hearing, though much of what I'll say won't be easy on your ears."  She handed the bottle across to him, nodding toward the label that was almost indecipherable.  "Wine from Harad, one of the finer vintages.  Go on, settle in and pour a cup.  We're going to be here a while."

TBC… 


	9. Nine

Nine 

The Sea Hawk looked pensively out the small porthole as she considered what exactly she could, or should, divulge to her unwilling guest. He had promised a fair hearing, which she should take as a given. However, he'd also managed to get around her original conditions quite neatly, without a shred of damage to his own honor. She would have done exactly the same in his place.

She'd poured wine for them, one of the excellent Haradrim vintages her father had taught her to enjoy. Now, she simply had to draw up enough courage to tell Boromir exactly why she was what she was.

Enough. She had to do this. But the thought of this man sitting in judgment on her was daunting, to say the least. He was far too much like her, and that worried her. Would he see the truth of her words, or simply condemn her for piracy and be done with it? This had to be handled carefully.

"You're right that I don't like killing," she said slowly. "I've had enough of it in my lifetime to satisfy even the most bloodthirsty of pirates. But all that I have done has been unavoidable and necessary to keep my people safe."

She downed the wine in her cup and poured another quickly, carefully not looking at her guest. "My father was an exile from Minas Tirith, sent away for what the Lord Steward your father called 'unfair business practices.' He was a woodcrafter, and well thought of. But Denethor, the snake, could not bargain him down on his price for a chair he wished, the design being my father's, and so Denethor had him banished. It was most unjust."

Boromir nodded as he sipped at his wine. His first impulse was to deny the accusation, but he reined it in quickly. No one knew better than he and Faramir the depths of the madness their sire had fallen into, nor did even they have a notion of when it had begun. And he had heard several similar tales since his return. It was entirely possible that she was telling the truth.

"When Andrus, my father, left Minas Tirith, he was allowed to take nothing," she continued quietly. "The clothes on his back, and no more. Everything he had worked for was taken from him as punishment for his 'unreasonable' pricing. So he wandered for a while, selling his services as a woodcrafter to obtain lodgings and meals, and amassing a fair bit of coin. With that, he took himself to Cair Andros, and signed onto a craft for Umbar, thinking to work his trade in peace. But it wasn't to be.

"The ship was taken by Corsairs, and he along with it. He was forced to learn a new trade to survive, and he did it well. This ship, _Aergil,_ he won by right of arms from her previous master, and I from him when he died. Although I didn't take it in a fight, as is normal for pirates. He willed the ship to me, and I held it. I held it against all comers, but I did _ not_ kill unless given no other choice. Everything was fine until we met up with the _Fortune_ out of Dol Amroth." Her voice was steady, but it held a note of pain. "I sent Arthond aboard to see to the plundering, with strict orders not to harm _anyone._"

Her throat closed up tight, and she almost couldn't continue. She downed what was left in her cup and repoured, noting idly that Boromir still lingered over his first cup and approving in the back of her mind. Some of the tales she'd heard of his carousing in Minas Tirith were simply appalling. It steadied her slightly that he seemed to be giving careful consideration to her tale, and obviously didn't want his mind muddled with drink. She forced herself to speak. 

"Arthond saw fit to override my commands. He thought it best to punish the crew, since they'd dared fight back against him. He had them bound and placed in the hold, then ruptured the hull and sent her to the bottom. They never had a chance." Her voice strengthened again as she hurled the again drained cup against the wall. "Arthond was punished, flogged, made an example of, and swore never to disobey again. I should have killed him for it. I should have just dropped him over the side."

Boromir waited for her to compose herself. This story was one he'd heard, though not from her side. Prince Imrahil had been most infuriated by what he saw as a callous disregard for human life. Boromir was beginning to see the truth of the matter, and it disturbed him greatly. "So it was not your decision to sink the _Fortune?_" he asked quietly. "What of the other lives taken in pursuit of your 'trade?"

"I take responsibility for those. A dozen, no more. Each died at the point of my blade, though not without fair warning. They chose to fight rather than surrender. They died with honor." There it was again, that damnable little word. Honor. Honor was what demanded she stay aboard this ship and see to her crew, provide for their families, and try to find them a better life. Honor was what demanded that she shelve all her personal needs, her very life, to try and make theirs better. 

She still couldn't face him directly. Somehow, this idea of holding him for ransom and the King's personal attention seemed suddenly ill-advised, if not downright stupid. "Most of my crew has family, children to feed. We take no more than what will feed them for a month on the open market in Umbar. And most of them came from Gondor. From Minas Tirith, either exiled or fled from Denethor's wrath. I've done what I can to keep them fed and sheltered. And I returned fourfold what we had taken from the _Fortune_, as compensation for the families that survived. I had an obligation to see to them, since their men's blood was on my hands."

Boromir covered his initial start of surprise. "No compensation was ever received by Prince Imrahil," he said slowly. "Those deaths have been firmly laid at your door, as though you ordered them yourself." He watched her face, searching for signs of deception, and saw none. What he did find, however, was a swift progression through shock, dismay, horror, and then just plain, unadulterated fury. He caught her before she could roar for one of her men and slapped his hand over her mouth. "Quietly, my lady. Think on this before you speak. Who was the one entrusted with the payment? Who did you send to Dol Amroth? That is who has betrayed you. And you will need to keep your wits about you to flush him out."

He waited only until she nodded slightly, accepting his instruction. Then he stepped back, nodding toward the door. "I think we should lock that, my Lady Pirate. We have plans to make."


	10. Ten

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of Tolkien's.  I'm just playing around with them a bit and will put them carefully away when I'm done.  The Sea Hawk, however, is all mine and please ask before using in other fics.

**Dedications:** I wouldn't have had the nerve to even start this without Evendim and my darling AJ reassuring me that it was decent.  This entire story is dedicated to them.

**A/N:** This piece is set in Evendim's wonderful AU.  Any questions can be answered simply by reading her wonderful fics.  Which should be done anyway because they are simply excellent!

**A/N 2:**This being an AU piece, there are several discrepancies from the Professor's works.  Not the least of which that Boromir lives!   

**A/N 3: **My thanks to all my reviewers!  I try to answer reviews as they come in, but if you don't leave an email I can't answer them!****

**Please, if you like the story, leave a review!  It would make my day, as well as telling me that it's worth continuing!**

*** 

Faramir had almost despaired of making his father see reason.  Aragorn was making preparations to go to Cair Andros, despite all the counsel he had taken.  He had not conceded, as yet, but he was beginning to realize that in a battle of wills, his father could be more stubborn than ever imagined.  

He stalked down the corridor to his rooms, throwing wide the door and flinging himself down onto his bed, groaning in fatigue.  Yet almost as soon as he had landed on the soft sable, he drew himself up again and glanced toward the balcony.  Soft sounds were coming from outside and he drew near the opening to listen.

"That's good, gull, that's right.  Settle down, now, so I can retrieve this… good."  

Faramir ducked out onto the balcony quickly to catch his very own esquire in the act of removing a message from the leg of the seagull in question.  Aran's eyes went wide as saucers and he flicked the bird from his hand, dodging to duck under Faramir's arm, but the man was too quick and held him in an iron grip.

"Here now, Aran, stop squirming!  I won't hurt you!" Faramir snapped as he set the boy on his feet.  "Give me the parchment."  He extended his hand, his face hard.  "I'm between you and the door, so give it here."

The boy lowered his head and held out his hand, and Faramir took the page and scanned it quickly.  His eyes widened, then narrowed and he glared down at the boy.  "How long has this been going on?" he demanded.  He took Aran's arm and hustled him into the hallway, almost dragging him until he realized the boy could hardly keep up his pace.  So, he slowed, and brought him to his father's rooms.

He held tight Aran squirmed in his grasp, and pounded heavily on the closed door.  "Sire!  We _must_ speak.  Now!"

"We have nothing further to discuss, My Lord Steward, so you may as well save your breath."  Aragorn appeared in the doorway, looking harried and fatigued.  "I will not risk your brother's life."

"You might not have to."  Faramir shouldered past the older man and hauled the boy forward.  "Aran was receiving this when I arrived in my rooms, my lord.  A message from the Sea Hawk."  He extended the parchment, his face set in angry lines.

"You have read this?"  Aragorn skimmed the parchment quickly, his eyebrows raising.  "They have reconsidered.  It seems you are to take the ransom to Cair Andros, to arrive in two days."

"I am more concerned now with how long this messaging has been going on!" Faramir snorted.  "Read further, my King.  Apparently, the pirates have been in contact with Aran here for some time, which would explain much."

Aragorn knelt down in front of the boy.  "Aran, is it?" he asked in a kindly tone.  "How long have you been receiving these messages, and what have you told them?"

"Not long, sir, honest!" Aran blurted.  "I wouldn't do anything to grieve my master, sir!  It's my sister sends these messages!"  He turned his stricken face up to Faramir's.  "Honest, lord, I didn't mean any harm!  She asked me questions and I answered them!  Weren't nothing important I told her, I promise!"

"Then tell me what you told her, Aran."  Faramir knelt down also to be at eye level with his esquire.  "And forgive me for my rough treatment of you, but I feared for my brother's life."

"I know.  You two are very close, but so am I to my sister.  I couldn't not answer her, sir, I couldn't!"

"We understand that, Aran, but we must know how much you have told her.  Everything.  Tell us that, please, so that we might save Boromir's life."  Aragorn met his son's eyes over the boy's head.  They could not hold him responsible for the damage.  His sister, on the other hand, would be held fully accountable once they found her.  

"She won't hurt your brother, sir, she gave her word.  And she doesn't like killing, not for any reason.  She won't hurt him, on my honor, my lord."  Aran was white-faced, but keeping what dignity he still possessed intact.  "And the only things I told her were things she asked, like how would you know if it was truly Boromir, and whether or not he was an honorable man, and whether or not you were, and just little things like that!"

Aragorn nodded to Faramir and they rose, Faramir keeping on hand on the boy's shoulder.  "It seems we might have been lucky to have discovered this at this time," Aragorn mused.  "The other messages were brought by hand.  Is there any way to prove they actually came from the Sea Hawk?  Perhaps there is another player in this game we have not yet become acquainted with."  
  


Faramir nodded and glanced at Aran.  "Would you like to regain your honor, Aran?" he asked quietly.  At the boy's insistent nod, Faramir clasped his shoulder firmly.  "Good lad.  We need for you to send a message to your sister.  Will she know it came from you, and not suspect some misdirection from us?"

Aran nodded again, happy to have the chance to regain favor with his master.  Truly, he worshipped Faramir and would never have him harmed.  "She knows if it comes with the gull, it's from me, since no one else would touch the filthy things."  He laughed softly, then sobered quickly and gave a direct gaze to the King.  "But if you're wondering were those other messages true, they were.  My sister sent them.  She never had any plans to hurt anyone, she just thought this way she could get a fair hearing and maybe find a place for her people that didn't involve stealing.  She thought you'd be more apt to listen if you stood to lose someone important to you.  It isn't about the gold, my lord, I swear that to you.  She just wants to help the people who depend on her.  She wants to find them a home."

Aragorn again knelt by the boy, his face stern.  "Then, Aran, you will need to send her a message, and you must send it exactly as we tell it to you.  Call your seagull, and let's begin."


	11. Eleven

Eleven 

Boromir dared a peek outside the door and motioned for the Sea Hawk to follow him.  "No one about below decks, it seems," he said quietly.  "Unusual."

"Very," Hawk replied with a raised eyebrow.  "I'd figure they'd been celebrating and were sleeping it off, but there's nothing to celebrate, of late.  They're up to something."  

"Agreed.  Carefully, now."  He stepped out and headed forward to the main accessway.  "Remember the plan, don't let them know anything is amiss."

"I know how to follow orders, Boromir," she sniped, but at the same time, she was somewhat relieved.  She had held this crew together, she had kept tight discipline, but this treachery was beyond her experience.  So much for the dreaded Sea Hawk, she mused sourly.  Still, she was disturbed.  Arthond had always been loyal to her, if a bit more bloodthirsty than she liked.  What had happened to change that?  Was someone else behind this?

Boromir, for his part, was quietly suspicious.  He believed her story about his father; it had the ring of truth.  And he believed her reaction when he had spoken of the missing blood money she had sent.  But he was having a hard time accepting that the only thing she truly cared for was the people she led.  She had mentioned women, and children, but he had seen no evidence of them as yet.  And he knew from experience, most pirates were interested only in how much treasure they could amass in their lifetimes.

They emerged above decks and headed for the bridge of the ship, seemingly just strolling.  Then he stepped near the rail and placed his hand on it, staring out to sea.  There were many seagulls aloft, so they must be close to land, but he saw nothing further to indicate it.  Then one of the birds came to rest on the rail, inches from his hand, and he silently commended the bird for bravery.  To be that close to a Man must frighten it sorely.

Hawk's hand descended to the bird's back and Boromir felt his brows raise in surprise as she gently picked it up and removed a strip of parchment from its leg, then flipped it aloft again.  "A response from my agent," she explained as she scanned the message.  "Faramir will bring the ransom to Cair Andros, as you suggested, and he will begin negotiations on what to do with my people.  In the King's name, of course."  Her brow lifted.  "It seems my agent is no longer secret, however.  He also sends word from your brother.  Faramir says that if you do not stop finding trouble wherever you go, he will tie you to your seat in Anorien so he can keep track of you."  She laughed softly.  

Boromir stifled the grin that threatened to escape with an effort.  That was his Fari, all right!  "Since we are, unlikely as it seems, allies, perhaps you would answer one or two more questions for me," he remarked idly, as if in truth the answers mattered not.  "Who is your agent?  It must be someone close to both myself and Faramir."  He peered over her shoulder at the parchment and cursed explosively.  "_Aran?_  Fari's own _esquire?_  I'll flay the little **_pizzle_** to his bones!"

Abruptly he was on his back on the deck with her dagger against his throat.  The thought came unbidden that he was getting tired of this.  "You'll not touch one hair of his head, do you understand?" she hissed furiously.  "Allies or not, if you harm my brother, I _will_ kill you."  As quickly as she had moved before, she was up and backing away from him.  "I won't apologize, either."

Boromir rose quickly, his hand aching for _Astalder_, but he forced himself to keep the blade sheathed.  "And you understand this," he snarled back.  "We are allies only until this is over.  After that, you _will_ be judged and you _will_ be punished.  I will see to it personally."  _Eru,_ but she was annoying!  And she certainly knew _exactly_ how to get on his bad side!

The two had been so absorbed in their argument that they had not noticed their growing audience.  "Give him what he deserves, Hawk, get him!" came the challenge, followed by hoots and catcalls and other rude noises, all directed at Boromir.  "Feed him to the fish!"

"Stand down, you scurvy lot!"  Arthond moved to the front of the group, his hand on his sword hilt.  "Let Hawk make the decision.  She's the Captain, after all."  His tone was mocking.

Hawk's eyes narrowed and she spared a quick glance at Boromir, then returned her attention to her first mate.  "What's on your mind, Arthond?" she queried nonchalantly, though her hand remained firmly on her dagger.  "Are you so unsatisfied with my leadership?"  This was not the time for power plays, for Eru's sweet sake!  Especially from him!  

"Not unsatisfied, just unimpressed," came the smooth rejoinder.  The sound of steel clearing leather was almost obscenely loud in the sudden hush.  "I don't think you have the right to lead us, not any more.  You're not strong enough to do what needs doing."

"Is that a challenge?"  Her voice was harsh as her own blade left its housing.  "Arthond, you know you can't beat me.  Better men than you have tried, and died.  Don't put your blood on my hands as well."  

Boromir made to get between them and she shoved him back, almost sending him on to the deck.  He staggered into the row of men behind and they caught him by the arms, holding him firmly.  "Not your place to interfere, boy," an older man growled in his ear.  "Captain's duel.  They have to settle this between them."  He stepped forward to address the duelists.  "This be a challenge to the Captain.  Rules say ye have ta fight fair, no dirty tricks.  Fight's over when one of ye yields or dies.  No one interferes."


	12. Twelve

**Chapter 12**

**Author's notes: Bet y'all are tired of these by now! *LOL* Anyway, many many thanks to all my reviewers! I haven't been up to doing much on the computer lately, so I haven't been able to answer them as I should. Back now, and delighted to see all these nice reviews! Keep them coming!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that belongs to Tolkien. I don't even own the AU this story is part of, although it is used with Evendim's permission. All original characters are mine and I would like to be asked before they are used in other fics.**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who helped me get this idea from my head onto the screen and has graciously allowed the use of her AU. And to my beloved AJ, who gives me courage enough to post these chapters. *mwah***

Twelve 

Boromir ground his teeth as Hawk and Arthond circled. Even had he wished to interfere, he wouldn't have been able to. He was restrained on both sides by Arthond's men. Then the battle was joined in earnest and he lost all interest in being thwarted. 

Hawk and Arthond were slicing at each other mercilessly. Hawk scored first blood, but her advantage was quickly stolen from her and Arthond had her on the ropes. No quarter was asked, and none was given. Each was feinting and slicing so quickly it was hard for the eye to follow until Hawk's sword went spinning across the deck and she went down hard. Arthond pressed his blade to her throat and she swallowed hard. "It's time you went your own way, Hawk," he snarled as he raised his sword for the final stroke.

His captors had relaxed the grip enough that Boromir was able to break free. He was there when the stroke fell, _Astalder_ in hand, and blocked the blow. "Let me see if I have this straight," he growled. "You won your challenge, so now you're the captain. And the captain has to hold his position against all comers." Boromir shifted his grip slightly and disarmed Arthond. "Consider this a challenge," he purred, his voice a muted roar.

Arthond grabbed up his weapon and took after Boromir, his face contorted with rage. "You think you could hold this ship?" he stormed as he rained blow upon blow on Boromir, hoping to get through his defenses. "With one arm? I think not! This ship is _mine!"_

Boromir used all the skill that Thranduil had taught him to parry and thrust on his own, slowly winning the advantage back from Arthond. He had kept his right arm at his side, giving the appearance of weakness. But the work he had been doing with the Haradrim healer, Dalos, had given him some limited use of it. He intended to take advantage of that at the proper time.

Thrust, feint, parry, became the rhythm and Boromir allowed himself to become more confident with his strokes, trying to put Arthond off-guard. Then, with a lightning move, he got past Arthond's guard and laid open his sword arm from wrist to elbow. He stepped back, grinning in a very not nice way. "First blood to me, pirate," he growled. "Yield?"

The only response was a wordless gargle of fury and Arthond leaped forward to renew his attack, sword now gripped in the other hand, pressing Boromir hard to keep his feet under the speed of the onslaught. Speed, not finesse. That was the opening Boromir needed.

He lunged forward, bringing himself nose to nose with the other man, and their crossed swords were the only things separating them. Then Boromir played his trump. 

Arthond went white when he felt the dagger against his belly. "That's not possible!" he whispered in shock. "Your hand, your arm! They were lamed!"

"Things change, Arthond," Boromir purred back, allowing the dagger to press just a bit more firmly into flesh. "Yield, or I will kill you. The choice is yours."

**TBC...**


	13. Thirteen

**Disclaimer: Not mine, more's the pity. I would have been nicer to poor Boromir. Hawk is mine, though, as are all the originals that are mentioned here and I'd like to be asked before you use them. Everything you recognize belongs to the estate of Professor Tolkien. He created them, and bless him for the fine story he crafted with them.**

**Author's note: This story is set in an Alternate Universe. That means some of the things you might expect from canon (i.e. the books and the movies) will not be the same. You have been warned! In this universe, Boromir *did not* die at Amon Hen. Evendim, who created this wonderful happy place with a live Boromir, is letting me use her universe for this tale. I asked, she said yes. If you want more backstory, read her fics, Behind Closed Doors, Beyond Closed Doors, and Beyond the Third Age. Read them even if you don't want backstory, they're excellent!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, without whom this story would never have been begun, and to my darling AJ who gave me the courage to post it. Bless you both.**

Thirteen 

Arthond twisted quickly, his blade screeching along Boromir's as he freed it and ducked backward all in one swift motion. "Then I choose to do the killing," he snarled as he pressed the advantage. He had Boromir off-balance, but he knew that wasn't enough. The man still had the extra blade, and as far as the crew went, no one was going to interfere. It was fair enough.

He struck blow after blow with his heavy cutlass, pushing Boromir further and further toward the rail. Then Boromir hit the rail and everything shifted once more. 

Boromir came away from the rail with a lunge, followed up quickly by a jab with the dagger. He was satisfied to hear a grunt of pain from his opponent, but in the next instant, Arthond had hold of the right hand, the dagger hand, and was inexorably forcing the blade back on Boromir! The cutlass sang in a heavy descending arc, the blade catching the hilts of _Astalder_ and knocking the sword from Boromir's hand.

Boromir immediately added his left hand's strength to the fight, trying to keep the dagger from his throat, but Arthond had the advantage of height and the strength of two whole arms. Boromir felt himself being pressed against the deck, while Arthond held him with one hand gripping his throat, and the other pressing the dagger's point against his flesh. "Now, I believe we were discussing your surrender," he snarled.

Boromir quickly weighed his options. He could die, or he could survive and fight another day. Or, he could simply kick the _snot_ out of this pirate and still take his ship. His eyes flashed furiously and Arthond leaned a bit closer.

"Think about your words, Boromir, for I have no mercy," he whispered to the fallen warrior. "It is not only your life I hold in my hands. Do you yield?"

Boromir simply glared at him. Who else could he be holding the strings on? Realization struck him like a heavy blow.

"Yes, I see you realize whom I speak of. I will be taking this ship to Cair Andros, as planned. Yield to me, Boromir, or I will make certain that Faramir also tastes the edge of my blade."

Boromir bucked underneath Arthond and won a quick slash across his cheek for his trouble. "The next one slits your throat. Decide!"

If he was alive, he could protect Fari. That was the only thought he could catch, everything was whirling so quickly in his mind. He let himself relax and felt the cold touch of defeat. "I yield, Captain," he managed to choke out.

Arthond drew back and even offered Boromir a hand to help him rise. "This ship is mine, won by right of arms!" he cried. "First mate, take her below and lock her up! Boromir, are you going to give me any trouble?" He held out Boromir's weapons toward him. "I will allow these to you if you give me your word you will serve as crew with no treachery."

"Treachery is second nature to you, Arthond," Boromir snarled back. "You won this contest by treachery, and sank the _Fortune_ the same way. You disobeyed your captain's orders. If you were one of mine, I'd have you hanged." He glared at the pirate hatefully. "I will never serve a traitor such as you. _You have no honor._ Even the Hawk has more honor than you, and she's a woman!"

"You've made your choice, then." Arthond's face grew taut with fury. "Bring Hawk back up. These two can take their chances with the sea."

Boromir and a very angry Sea Hawk were herded into one of the small boats and their weapons were loaded as well. "You're free to go. There's no sextant, very little fresh water, no food. Take your chances with the sea, for as you know, she is a harsh mistress." Arthond laughed heartily.

The boat was lowered into the swells and _Aergil_ began to pull away. Hawk cursed, long and imaginatively, until she was lost to sight. Boromir simply regarded her with one upswept eyebrow. "Does that help?" he asked mildly.

Hawk rounded on him and delivered a devastating punch to his already twice wounded cheek and he caught the cry of pain behind his teeth. He snarled and pulled her close to him, settling her over his lap, and brought his hand down swiftly across her seat. "I told you that you were a brat in need of a spanking!" he roared.

Hawk shrieked in fury and bit his leg, scrambling free as he clutched the thigh, his eyes murderous. He reached for her, drew her in close, and pinned her against him with his good arm, taking care to watch her flailing legs. "If you don't settle down, I'll give you more than just a spanking," he hissed through clenched teeth. She promptly sank her teeth into his shoulder and dodged back, putting the center seat of the little craft between them.

"I'll beat you to a bloody pulp if you do that again!" Boromir roared as he lunged forward again. Hawk scrambled backward and sat down hard as the aft seat hit her in the knees, and Boromir dropped down on her, using his greater weight to hold her still. But before he could speak, the feel of a blade against his throat stopped him cold.

"If you don't get off me and behave like you _might_ be an adult, I'll skewer you and throw you overboard," Hawk spat angrily. 

"You can't kill me, not in cold blood," Boromir seethed. "It's not in you." It was a gamble, one he'd die for if he was wrong, but he trusted his gut. She simply didn't have murder in her soul.

He waited, expecting to feel the slice of the sharpened steel against his skin, and was startled to hear what sounded suspiciously like a sob from the Hawk. He immediately glanced down at her face and saw it wet with tears.

He moved back, slowly, allowing her the choice of whether to rise or stay where she was. She took it and dragged herself onto the seat between them. "How could you be certain?" she asked him in a tiny, defeated voice.

Boromir watched her thoughtfully, absently rubbing his abused cheek. "I'm a commander. I stake my life on my judgments of people. And you don't have that hard streak most soldiers do, that stick at nothing to survive will. It's why you finally lost your ship, and why you couldn't give the orders when you needed to when we fled from the slavers." He didn't move toward her, nor away, simply remained where he was on the bench and watched her closely. 

Hawk nodded. "Arthond was always the one to do the dirty work. I fought the duels, yes, but those were necessity. The Captain couldn't lose face, or so he told me." "I would have spared their lives, even then, but he'd convinced me that would make me less fearsome, and Eru have mercy, he was right." Her tears continued to fall, unheeded. "Then, when we took the _Fortune,_ everything went wrong. I should have known better than to trust him. But I did, and that's the end of it. But I won't run from this, I can't. I have to start taking responsibility somewhere. The blood of the _Fortune's _crew is on my hands, as surely as if I'd ordered their deaths."

Boromir nodded. "We'll start by finding our way to Cair Andros as fast as we can," he suggested. "You can help me set things right by first stopping Arthond before he can harm anyone else."

**TBC...**


	14. Fourteen

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, it all belongs to the estate of JRR Tolkien. I do, however, claim the Hawk and other original characters and would like to be told if they are used elsewhere.  
  
A/N: This story is set in an alternate universe created by Evendim. She has graciously allowed me to play in her sandbox, and I am very grateful for it.  
  
A/N 2: In order to understand this universe, and chiefly to understand how Boromir was able to survive Amon Hen, you really should read Evendim's fics, Behind Closed Doors, Beyond Closed Doors, and Beyond the Fourth Age. This fic ties in with the occurrences in those fics.  
  
A/N 3: My heartfelt thanks to Evendim, who co-authored this chapter with me. Thanks for getting me out of my funk and helping me to pick up the thread again!  
  
Dedications: To Evendim, who created this wonderful universe where Boromir gets to live, and to my darling AJ who gave me the courage and strength to post this story. I love you guys so much!  
  
**********  
  
"No!" snapped Aragorn. "I know we discussed this but...I am afraid I shall lose you. I like having a son."  
  
"I like finally having a father. So far the nearest I have known is Boromir and that is why I must be there. There isn't a force upon Middle Earth that would keep him away if my life was on the line. You know how he can be; single minded and impossible!" smiled Faramir.  
  
"I know. I never shall forget Moria. Boromir rolled his eyes, ducked a spear in the door by his head and quipped 'They have a cave troll!" like it was an everyday event!"  
  
"Back along the tunnel the cave troll was saying 'They have Boromir of Gondor!" laughed Faramir.  
  
"Exactly! The cave troll was for running!" said Aragorn. "Seriously, Faramir, we need to plan this carefully, I want both of you back safely in Minas Tirith. I lost him once. Twice would be considered careless."  
  
"Thranduil would say so." said Faramir.  
  
"I have enemies enough!" laughed Aragorn. "Here is the best place to agree to meet them; at this inlet. Once they are committed to land they cannot turn their boat and flee. The prow will face into the narrows and they shall be caught like bugs in a jar. Position your men here, here, and especially there! A ring of steel which you can snap shut with a single command!"  
  
"Yes, of course! I shall go forth to meet their leader, this 'Hawk' and as we exchange the gold that shall be the signal!" said Faramir.  
  
"Have a care, they may have a blade at Boromir's neck. Best to have them fetch him where you may see him."  
  
"And if they refuse?" asked the Steward.  
  
"Then perhaps he is already beyond rescuing and you may deal with the scum as you see fit!" whispered the king.  
  
"Say it not. I could not bear it!" said Faramir as he moved into his father's arms for a hug.  
  
"I ought to be the one to go. It is me they want." said the king.  
  
"I cannot trade you off for my brother. You are the King, our last link to Isildur and you have no heir!" said Faramir as he twisted the king's hair between forefinger and thumb. "Boromir would not risk you for anything. No, I must go and you must stay and Boromir must take his chances."  
  
Aragorn watched as his son rode out of Minas Tirith at the head of a company headed for Cair Andros. He knew what it had cost Faramir to say those words. Neither brother had ever let the other 'take his chances,' so to speak. They were in tune, and totally devoted to each other as well as to their King. And Aragorn pitied the pirates if so much as one hair on Boromir's head had been touched. If Faramir were unable to kill them, then he would do so. 


	15. Fifteen

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, it all belongs to the estate of JRR Tolkien. I do, however, claim the Hawk and other original characters and would like to be told if they are used elsewhere.  
  
A/N: This story is set in an alternate universe created by Evendim. She has graciously allowed me to play in her sandbox, and I am very grateful for it.  
  
A/N 2: In order to understand this universe, and chiefly to understand how Boromir was able to survive Amon Hen, you really should read Evendim's fics, Behind Closed Doors, Beyond Closed Doors, and Beyond the Fourth Age. This fic ties in with the occurrences in those fics.  
  
Dedications: To Evendim, who created this wonderful universe where Boromir gets to live, and to my darling AJ who gave me the courage and strength to post this story. I love you guys so much!  
  
**********  
  


Boromir groaned.  "So what do you suggest we do now, _Captain,"_ Boromir growled.  "No oars.  And even if we had oars, we would still have a problem.  How do we get drinking water out here?  We can survive without food, but without water we haven't a very good chance."

Hawk almost grinned at him as she loosened her leather vest.  "That's why I'm the pirate and you're not," she said bluntly.  "I've a way of collecting water, and if we're lucky it will be enough for us to reach Cair Andros.  Just pray we don't have a squall in the meantime, this boat was never meant for rough weather."

The vest hit the deck of the little craft and she swore.  "What we need is water.  We can reach Cair Andros by nightfall, two days from now, if we can find something to row with.  But if we don't have a water source, we won't make it."  She shaded her eyes and glared toward the horizon.  "I think we can manage the water, but you won't like it."

He scowled back at her.  "I'll do what must be done to protect Faramir and my King," he spat.  "But while you are plotting, find a way for us to steer this thing in the right direction.  We've no rudder, either."  

"Don't need one."  Hawk had lain down in the bottom of the boat and was inspecting the seats carefully.  "We'll steer her straight enough with the oars."

Boromir was sure she'd gone mad.  "The sun's gotten to you," he grumbled as he watched her closely.  "We *have* no oars, Hawk.  Do you understand that?  We - have - no - oars!"

She came upright quickly, the bench held in her hands.  "We'll use these," she explained patiently.  "I'm the pirate, you're the soldier.  I know how to survive out here, and you don't.  This isn't a training mission, Boromir, it's survival, pure and simple.  If you want to live, you'll have to follow my lead."  Gone was the insecure, frightened girl she had seemed only moments ago.  It was as if, by making the decision to atone for her mistakes, she had unlocked a core of strength that had long remained hidden.  "Will you, or are we going to argue over this more while that scurvy bastard is using *my* ship to plunder and kill?  And let's not forget your darling little brother, either.  He'll be on his way to Cair Andros by now, maybe already there.  Which will it be, Captain-General of Gondor?"

Boromir hid his shock well.  This was the brat who had kidnapped him.  But the strength of her will was iron, and no longer was she playing at being a pirate.  By betraying her and stealing her ship, Arthond had taught her a hard lesson.  This was no game they were playing, and they both needed to be hardened and decisive to survive it.

Hawk would survive, he knew.  She seemed to have tapped into some inner source of confidence and steel.  He took the other bench apart and moved to the port side of the boat.  "We'll need to share the remaining bench, and I do much better with the left arm," he said simply.  "If you know of a reliable source of water, then we should make Cair Andros in good shape indeed.  But will we be there in time?"

She yanked her hair up off her neck and secured it with a leather strip she had found in their meager supplies.  "The wind is against Arthond and _Aergil_," she explained as they began to row in unison.  "We have a chance.  But we're not heading for Cair Andros, not directly."

"We're not."  Boromir felt his fury rising again and struggled to subdue it.  "And why not?  In case you have forgotten in the last few moments, Faramir is going to his death."

"I hadn't forgotten."  She shielded her eyes again and glanced slightly to the starboard of straight ahead.  "It appears that your King values your hide quite highly, sir.  Is that not his banner on that ship?"

Boromir followed her eyes and cursed explosively.  "How long have you known that Barcque was in these waters?" he demanded.  "Never mind, sit down.  Row.  We might just make it to Faramir before Arthond does."


	16. Sixteen

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Tolkien's, more's the pity.  I do own the Sea Hawk and Arthond, and would like to be asked before they're used in other fics.  I'll say yes, I just like to know where my babies are LOL**

**A/N: This story is AU.  Boromir did not die at Amon Hen.  For details, please read Evendim's fics Behind Closed Doors, Beyond Closed Doors, and Beyond the Third Age.**

**A/N: My heartfelt gratitude to Evendim for allowing me to play in her sandbox.  This AU was created by her and used by permission.  **

**Acknowledgments: To Evendim, for letting me use her ideas, And to all my loyal reviewers!  Thanks, guys, keep it up!  The more reviews I get, the more story you'll get!**

**Dedicated to Evendim and my darling AJ whose support and patience have been quite above and beyond the call of duty.  I love you guys so much!**

"Sir, there's a small boat off to our port side.  Looks like two passengers, though how they got this far out to sea with no sails is beyond me."  The lieutenant paused just below Ancir's spot on the bridge.  "They appear to be paddling our way."

Ancir peered in the direction the sailor was pointing and drew in his breath sharply.  It couldn't be!

"Trim the sails and ship the oars!  Helm, hold a steady course!"  Ancir wasn't Boromir's second for nothing.  The commands were short and clipped, and quickly carried out.  He went swiftly to the rail, still wondering if his eyes deceived him.  "Quickly, now, linesmen, let's bring her in!"

The line was thrown with eerie accuracy and the occupants of the little craft used it to pull themselves in.  Ancir could not believe his eyes!

"My lord!" he exclaimed as Boromir swarmed up the rope, Hawk close behind.  Ancir gave his Captain-General a very proper salute.  "How did you escape?  Although I think you could have planned it better, if that craft is any indication.  You should have at least brought water with you."

One of the crew brought water, which the pair eagerly accepted and drank, though not too much.  Boromir then dumped his excess over Hawk's head and pulled Ancir into a manly embrace.  "It wasn't my choice of vessels, I'm afraid," he almost laughed as Hawk shrieked and stepped backward.  "In fact, our escape was very much unintentional at the time, though it proved quite useful."  He reached around and grabbed Hawk by the hair as she made to move away from them.  "Ah, ah, ah, no disappearing acts today, Hawk."  He dragged her forward into Ancir's clear gaze.  "This is the creature we have been hunting, Ancir," he explained, his voice smug.  "The Sea Hawk."

"Get your paws off me, you misbegotten spawn of a Balrog!" Hawk demanded as she gave his wrist a twist.  "I'm not going anywhere.  In case you've forgotten, that swine stole my ship!  I want it back!"

"As I wish my brother safe," Boromir hissed back.  "You give me your word you won't try to escape, and that you won't try mayhem on any of the crew or myself, and we'll go from there."  His face was set into what Ancir had occasionally called his "take no prisoners" expression. 

"Fine," she snapped back.  "Just don't forget, you owe me.  Remember what you promised."

Ancir turned again to regard his commander, wondering just what in the name of all Arda had happened between these two.  He was starting to get a stiff neck from all the back and forth movement.

Boromir's eyes narrowed, then he nodded.  "I have not forgotten, _Fileg,"_ he said, his voice deadly.  "I will sponsor your people to the King, but only once Arthond is in irons, and only if your people agree as well.  And you will be in the brig, under guard, the entire time.  I want no chance of you pressuring them into agreement."

She regarded him furiously, her own eyes narrowing in return, and then her fist connected with his by now much-abused cheek hard enough to send him to the deck.  He quickly rose, motioning Ancir's men away from her.  "She's no danger to any of you," he growled.  "She's give her word, and she is at least honorable enough to keep it.  Besides, I'm the one she wants to murder, not any of you."  He glared at her.  "Are you through assaulting me?" he demanded.

"Quite.  Now, let's get to work."  Hawk drew Ancir into a huddle with herself and Boromir.  "There are catacombs under the Garrison at Cair Andros, which you probably already were aware of," she qualified when Boromir opened his mouth to speak.  "Be quiet and listen.  Those catacombs are where my people are hidden.  Yes, Boromir, right under your very nose.  Be still.  There's an access tunnel from our hiding place to the Garrison basement, which in turn has a hidden passageway to the dock.  Arthond will have to leave _Aergil_ out of the bay, unless he wants to chance a trap.  And whether you want to admit it or not, he's too smart for that."

Ancir spoke up quickly.  "And why should we trust your word on any of this?" he demanded.  "You're nothing but a pirate, a thief, and a murderer.  How do we know you're not leading us into a trap?"

"She isn't."  Boromir's voice was grim.  "Arthond was responsible for the sinking of the _Fortune, _not Hawk.  She and I have a sort of… understanding of one another."  He gave Hawk a shrewd glance.  "So you're going to turn the tables on him, and the hunter becomes the hunted."

"We are," she corrected.  "Sir, if I may?" and she turned to Ancir.  "You mustn't breathe a word of Boromir to his brother.  We need to remain unfound for this to work.  Boromir and I will use the passages to emerge at the dock, and will then secure the longboat,cutting off Arthond's escape.  The crew is loyal to me, not Arthond.  He is maintaining discipline through fear, he always did.  They will help us.  And once Arthond is dealt with, I will bring my people up and we can take them to Minas Tirith, to your King."

She extended her hand for a shake to close the bargain, trying not to think of what it would mean to her.  Whether she had personally killed the _Fortune's_ crew or not, she was responsible for their deaths.  She would have to accept the consequences of her chosen course, no matter the outcome.

Boromir nodded to Ancir and took her hand, his own grip firm and steady.  "We've a few hours yet before we're in sight of the Garrison.  Ancir, we'll need somewhere to freshen up."  He pointedly kept his voice neutral, but he knew he smelled of sweat and blood, and he hadn't changed for days.  Hawk would be grateful as well, if he'd read her correctly. 

Ancir signaled one of the crew, who led them belowdecks and showed them two different cabins.  "Make yourselves comfortable.  I'll have someone bring some water for washing, and clean clothes too.  There's bread and cheese set out, too, and some of that wine you like from Lebennin."  He bowed low and left them.

Boromir gave a tiny bow to Hawk and let himself into the cabin, thankful for the respite from Hawk's temper.  He found the snack and fell to with gusto, then poured a goblet of wine and finished it off.  By that time, there was activity in the passage and he heard Hawk's voice raised in anger.

"Either you bring me something practical to wear or your Captain will get you back in pieces!" she raged. 

Boromir stepped into the passage.  "What is this?" he demanded of the cabin boy.

Hawk turned to him, her eyes flashing.  "This 'boy' brought me dresses to wear!" she answered, her voice clipped, curt, and furious.  "I can't bloody well go traipsing around in the catacombs with skirts on, now can I?"

Boromir laughed, a full-throated booming roar of amusement.  "And here I thought it was something life-threatening!  Cartis, bring the lady some of your clothes, they should fit.  Breeches and tunics.  She'll need them where we're headed."  He turned away from her, still chuckling, and retreated into his appointed cabin, closing the door firmly behind him.


	17. Seventeen

**Disclaimer: They aren't mine, unfortunately. All recognizable characters from the book/movies belong to JRR Tolkien. I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun. The Sea Hawk, however, is mine and I'd like to be asked before she's used in someone else's fics. Ancir is the creation of Evendim and used with permission.**

**A/N: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. That means that not everything is the same as in the books. Point in question: Boromir didn't die at Amon Hen and I thank Evendim for making that possible. This is her AU, also borrowed with permission. **

**Dedication: This story is dedicated to some very wonderful people. Evendim, for allowing me to use her AU and even helping me brainstorm what's coming next, for tireless beta reading and keeping my facts straight, and just in general being the best friend a writer could have. And for my darling AJ, without whom I would never have had the courage to even start this. Thank you both, more than I can ever say.**

****

Boromir stifled the temptation to simply wrap his hands around Hawk's throat and squeeze. She had been leading them further and further in what felt to him the wrong direction. But he stilled the impulse, just the same, because he thought he knew what she was doing.

How had it come to this? He had placed his trust in her, and trust was not something he took lightly. She had managed to earn his respect quickly, which was no mean feat. But this was going too far, leading them away from the docks and the Garrison. She was up to something.

Hawk held up a hand for him to stop, and he drew near enough to hear her whispered caution. "My people have been living in these caves for a very long time," she explained softly. "They are ever wary of strangers who find their way to the catacombs. I'll go first; stay behind me and don't make any sudden moves, please. I need you in one piece to negotiate for us."

She moved out ahead of him just a touch and he finally saw the torches illuminating what seemed to be a huge cavern, fitted out with living spaces and kitchen facilities. Indeed, these folk had been there long enough to make even the caves feel homelike. Bright tapestries graced the far wall, and there was a mural along one side that resembled the one he'd seen at Rivendell. Not exactly, though.

Hawk was addressing her people and he returned his attention to her words.

"We have a chance for freedom, now. The King is come again in Gondor, and he has been informed of our presence. The Captain-General of Gondor, Boromir, has assured me he will speak for us to his King." She waved a hand in his direction and he bowed to the assembled, not quite certain what she was leading up to. Then she continued, her voice hard. "Arthond has forfeited his claim to our heritage. He has taken the _Aergil,_ and he has committed murder. He is no longer one of us."

The silence in the cavern was immense. No one spoke or even breathed, it seemed. Hawk's voice softened, but only slightly. "He may come here, seeking refuge. _Do not offer him sanctuary. _He is not one of us. Take him and hold him if he shows his face here. Boromir and I go to find him and bring him to justice for the murders he has done. Then I will return to you, and lead you to the promised place of safety."

She waited only a moment before she took Boromir's arm and pulled him back into the shadow. "Now, I'll take you to the dock, as promised. But don't make a liar of me with my people, please. They need some hope."

Boromir swore to himself. "I would never break my word, should my King himself demand it of me, and you know it," he managed to choke out. He would have said more, but one of the older children came forward and claimed Hawk's attention.

"What should we do, my lady?" he asked respectfully. "If Arthond may come here, we'll need to be ready. And there are more than a few of us who would see to your safety as well. Tell us where you need us."

She looked around to find a circle of young, determined faces. "Very well, Tothik, take ten of you and set a guard on the entrances. Then bring whoever is left and meet us at the dock. I'll give you further instruction when you meet us there."

She headed out, going in what felt to be the right direction this time, and Boromir dared a question. "Who are you to these people?"

"I am the only one they have to protect them," she shot back smoothly. She pulled down on a sconce and the passageway opened next to them. "I've been leading them and caring for them since I was little more than a child. My father expected it of me."

"Your father? He was a woodcrafter. What would he know of leading an entire country? That is what I see, in that cavern, a people who have lived in fear too long. How does the daughter of a woodcrafter learn to lead as well as you?" Boromir gave a slight snort. She was no leader, either, when it had come down to the finish. He'd taken command of her ship because she was indecisive and hesitant.

So unlike the woman she was now. This woman wore a cloak of responsibility as though born to it. She issued orders, and they were obeyed without question. She was no longer a fledgling, barely out of the nest. She was living up to her namesake.

"My father expected it of me." She shrugged and halted, letting him get close enough behind her to see the faint outline of a door. "The docks are just beyond that door," she said quietly. "Are you ready?"

"I was ready before you were whelped," he returned sardonically. "Let's get this done before Faramir dies of old age."

Together, they started forward.


	18. Eighteen

**Disclaimer: They aren't mine, unfortunately. All recognizable characters from the book/movies belong to JRR Tolkien. I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun. The Sea Hawk, however, is mine and I'd like to be asked before she's used in someone else's fics. Ancir is the creation of Evendim and used with permission.**

**A/N: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. That means that not everything is the same as in the books. Point in question: Boromir didn't die at Amon Hen and I thank Evendim for making that possible. This is her AU, also borrowed with permission. **

**Dedication: This story is dedicated to some very wonderful people. Evendim, for allowing me to use her AU and even helping me brainstorm what's coming next, for tireless beta reading and keeping my facts straight, and just in general being the best friend a writer could have. And for my darling AJ, without whom I would never have had the courage to even start this. Thank you both, more than I can ever say.**

****

Faramir stood at the head of the dock, watching as the longboat came ever closer. There was no sign of Boromir, and he tensed slightly.

His men were well concealed, and he had a moment's pride in them. Then he returned his attention to the boat as it was brought to the pier and a tall man followed by two seconds stepped ashore.

"You are Faramir, Steward of Gondor?" the dark-haired one demanded. "You have our gold?"

"I am and I have," Faramir returned tightly. Something was very wrong, but he could not isolate it. "You are to release the Captain-General immediately, or I will consider the bargain unaccepted."

He looked past the man, toward the _Aergil_, and saw nothing amiss. No movement was to be seen on her decks; the crew was mostly crowded against the rail to watch.

"I will see your gold, Steward, before I allow you even a glimpse of your dear brother," Arthond sneered.

Faramir gestured for one of the men to bring forward a pouch and took it, opening the neck of the purse and displaying the coins. "I trust this is sufficient," he queried. Something was still not right; the two men at the pirate's back had been too silent. Was this, then, the trap his King had feared?

He could not wait to spring his own, nor could he be too early. They had this one chance to bring in the pirate, no more. But something in him was telling him it was time.

One of the hooded figures behind the pirate raised his head just a fraction, and Faramir was treated to the sight of two very familiar green eyes returning his gaze. There was a slight, almost unnoticeable nod.

Faramir held the pouch out to Arthond, just out of his reach. "I ask you again in good faith to release Boromir," he said quietly, an edge of pure steel in his voice. "If you do not, then the bargain is no bargain and you will be taken to Minas Tirith to answer for your crimes."

Arthond reached for his blade, knowing Faramir would carry through his threat. He found his grip blocked by a warm hand which took his and squeezed it unmercifully. "Draw blade against my brother and I will gut you where you stand," Boromir hissed. "Disarm. Then back slowly away from the Steward and kneel before him."

The hood swept back and Boromir was revealed, and Arthond knew fear. The man's face was implacable. A quick glance to his other 'second' revealed his death if she got a chance. Hawk had squirmed into the other man's place, it seemed.

"Well, brother mine, have you someone to take charge of this piece of offal?" Boromir asked off-handedly. "Oh, and _Aergil_ will be tacking in to dock in a few moments. We sent the longboat back with orders to dock. You see, they willingly serve the Sea Hawk, but not her traitorous first mate." He turned his gaze again to Hawk, then back to his brother. Odd, the woman had been given a golden opportunity to escape, yet there she stood beside him as she had promised. Respect for her grew again.

Faramir looked her over critically, noting the easy relaxed stance of a born sailor, yet the muscled strength of a warrior as well. "You say she is the Sea Hawk?" he asked in disbelief.

Hawk raised her chin defiantly. "I am. And I am calling on the Captain-General now to honor his promise."

Boromir gave her a half-bow. "As you wish, my lady," he quipped as he stepped forward. "Lord Steward, I require you to carry a message to his majesty the King Elessar. I have on this island several scores of persons who have been displaced. They are in need of a patch of land to call their own. The Sea Hawk will act as their spokesman in these negotiations, if it pleases his majesty to open them."

There. He'd gotten it all out and without a hitch. He hated political speeches, though on occasion he agreed they were necessary.

Faramir also gave the Hawk a slight bow. "If you will remain here under custody of the Captain-General, he will see to your needs and those of your people. And who should I say is petitioning for sanctuary? The name of the Sea Hawk would get you a quick hanging, I believe."

"Peace, brother, she is not what she seems. That maggot you have in custody was responsible for the deaths of the _Fortune's_ crew, not her." Boromir would defend her, even if he didn't like her, because what she had spoken to him was the truth. He could feel it in his bones.

"And she does have a voice of her own, sir," Hawk said, her voice dry. "You may tell him what you wish, my lord, but the name I was given at birth vexes me sorely and I wish to keep it a forgotten secret." Her eyes twinkled with suppressed mischief.

Faramir nodded. "As you wish, then. I will return to the Citadel with your requests. Boromir, I leave the island in your capable hands until I return or send word to you." So saying, he bowed again and signaled his men to follow. And he had so been looking forward to a good fight! Eowyn would laugh herself sore over his discomfiture, he was certain.

Boromir and Hawk watched the Barque depart together. "Well, my lady, it seems you have what you wanted," he said slowly. "Does all my hard work on your behalf not grant me the pleasure of your true name?" His eyes held hers and something stirred inside him that he couldn't place.

Hawk was mesmerized by his intense stare and it took her three tries to get her voice to work. "I suppose it does, but I won't tell you anyway," she teased gently. She placed a hand on his arm and leaned forward, brushing a gentle kiss across his damaged cheek. "I am sorry for that, whether you believe it or not," she whispered.

Boromir again captured her eyes, bringing her hand to his lips and brushing a gentle kiss across the knuckles. "I will find out," he threatened playfully.

She danced backward with a grin. "If you guess, I'll tell you true," she sing-songed. Then she tried to turn and run but he caught her easily and brought her close to his chest.

The contact silenced both of them. Then Boromir held her closer with his good arm and kissed her, hesitantly at first, but with growing assurance. He drew back slowly, keeping his gaze on her face. "I would not take the wind from your sails," he whispered, "but I would cherish this feeling between us, always."

"Be still and kiss me," she breathed back as she pulled him closer to her. "It's strange, though. I haven't had the urge to knife you in the last few hours." She giggled and he laughed as they walked back toward the Garrison.

Boromir suddenly felt playful. "Come with me, I want to show you something," he urged as he pulled her aside through a small access door. "Something I doubt even you have seen in the catacombs."

Hawk didn't resist, but she didn't seem altogether pleased, either, and he stopped. "Have I offended you?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "No, of course not. But… it's nothing. Just my imagination running wild." She stepped forward to see what he had brought her here to see.

Ice. The whole cavern was covered with ice crystals, though the air would seem to warm for them to exist. The very walls glittered and she took a deep breath.

"How?" she asked as she reached to touch the wall, feeling the coldness for herself, and wondering at it.

"I don't know," he replied quietly. His arm had gone around her again, unnoticed by the both of them, and she settled a little closer into his grasp. "My brother and I found this place when we were young. It has always been like this, and there is no explanation. It just is, and a thing of beauty that eases the troubled mind and spirit. When I was in charge of the garrison, I came here often."

She could feel the hidden pain in his words. That he had visited here while commanding told her many things, not the least of which that he did not command as easily as it seemed. He felt too deeply, grieved too badly, was enraged at the loss of life, however necessary it had become. The sudden flash of insight gave her the courage to trust him finally, completely. He would never cause her pain, not if it could be in any way avoided.

"Eirien." Her voice was soft and she turned him to face her, touching his lips gently with her own. "My name is Eirien."


End file.
